


Stuff of Suns

by a_fandom_affliction



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Clark is Beautiful, Drabble, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 17:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_fandom_affliction/pseuds/a_fandom_affliction
Summary: There is a beauty in Clark, one that is ingrained in his DNA and reinforced by evolution. There are drawings, there are praises, there are songs sung in his honor for being him - for being the last. For living, for surviving, for flourishing. For existing.





	Stuff of Suns

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something because bruce thinks clark is beautiful

There are words in languages Bruce doesn’t know, but the feelings are all the same: Clark is beautiful. Bright like the ocean, bright like the sky - perfect, impeccable skin that dazzles when the sun hits it just right.

 

Blue eyes, bright and gleaming, ever-dancing with joy, with cleverness, with things most can’t comprehend.

 

Large frame, but graceful - composed as if a flower with a bud about to bloom. Large petals will fall flat. Full petals, fat petals, gorgeous petals comprised of his achievements, his tenacity, his zeal.

 

But Clark will not bend to the gravity of this Earth, this planet. He will not stop when the weight bears too much to house on his shoulders. He will falter only slightly, go off on the wayward path for a while, but in the end he heads home to wear the crown that surely glows above his head.

 

And there are different sights, Bruce knows too, sights from others who have seen more stars than he has seen suns. He knows that they have to see the way Clark’s spirit moves, breathes, _runs_ as it chases after the future.

 

Bruce wonders if it’s colored blue, colored red, colored bright like Clark’s smile.

 

For there are whispers Bruce hears when the refugees see Clark. They take him as an inspiration, say his skin has been spun from star silk.

 

Weaved by time, weaved by creators who made everything in the beginning, forever precious, forever holy.

 

Bruce sees it in the way they look at Clark, too; hundreds of new faces, each unique and expressive. Some humanoid, some not, but with the same gaze as they trail after him.

 

A loving look, swoon-filled sighs, and smiles so wide Bruce feels like so many faces will split in two if they grin any longer. Something flickers in his heart, builds up with a pressure and lingers at the bottom of his throat.

 

“Mine,” Bruce thinks. “He’s mine - don’t you know anything?”

 

But he doesn’t say it out loud, when these people flock to Clark as if he is the shepherd who will lead the way. With open hands Clark reassures them, he cares for them, helps them build and start over.

 

He makes sure they never have to live the way he has done, in fear and in secret, but gives them all the things he wished he could have had.

 

There is a beauty in Clark, one that is ingrained in his DNA and reinforced by evolution. There are drawings, there are praises, there are songs sung in his honor for being him - for being the _last_.

 

For living, for surviving, for flourishing.

 

For existing.

 

But, as Bruce stands and enjoys the way embarrassment paints Clark’s skin pink, blue eyes meet cowl lenses and Clark smiles. There’s a little wave, a small bite of the lip as a child tugs on his hand to hear another story, and his attention is taken away from Bruce once again.

 

However, the feeling of the gaze is still there, still sharp, still present, and the feeling in Bruce’s heart settles, lays down and rests.

 

Because at the end of the day, Bruce is loved by the most beautiful creature in the universe - and no epic poem or high praise needs to tell him that.

 

He’s known forever that Clark is what stars are made of, he just needed to reach out and take the hand that was offered.

 

And now that he has? Well, he’s never letting go.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> first actual drabble thing for this pairing so lemme know if you like it in the comments and maybe i'll do something full-length


End file.
